The Boy Who Was Forgotten
by frozenangel1988
Summary: What if history forgot to mention the existence of a child between two of Hogwarts Founders? What if that child's life ended prematurely at the age of 17? This is the story of Alexi Slytherin, the son of Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw, as read by Hermione Granger in the ghost of Alexi's journal. Founders era/Hermione's 7th year.
1. Chapter 1

The Boy Who Was Forgotten

One

To say that Hermione Granger felt alone and frustrated while completing her seventh and final year at Hogwarts would be a gross understatement. Yes, she had Ginny Weasley to talk to, but Ginny had not been the same since the death of Fred and even at her best Ginny wasn't Harry and Ron. While she understood why the other two members of the golden trio had elected not to finish their Hogwarts education, she was still disappointed. Without her two best friends popping up with some strange story or quip that would make her want to scold them, all Hermione Granger has is her studies. Since the beginning of fall term, she had spent whatever moments she was not in class, eating or sleeping, holed up in the back of the Hogwarts library, trying not to think about the aftermath of the war and her breakup with Ron. Sometimes she lost track of time and would be woken up by a cross Madam Pince mumbling about students drooling on her volumes.

This time however, Hermione woke to a soft swearing. All the candles set around her newly claimed workstation had burnt out but one that was nearly out. Hermione wiped the sleep from her eyes and peered through the darkness toward what she thought was the direction of the swearing. She could make out a slight hint of silver white.

"Hello?"

Silence.

"Hello?" She repeated. "Anyone there?"

Silence.

"Come out. I won't harm you." Hermione stepped towards the frozen light.

It was a ghost, a boy, or really young man, around her age. She could tell that when he was living he may have been considered handsome. He was tall, taller than Ron with long light hair that was bound back with a dark ribbon. His eyes were also light but held different tones of silvery white. His thin yet muscular frame was covered in clothes which must have been made of both leather and silk. A dark silk shirt with a leather jerkin laced overtop and fitted leather pants that were tucked into sturdy leather boots, whether his clothes were all black or brown, she could not tell by his ghostly color. Around his neck was a miniature hammer talisman roped by a leather thong. In his right hand was a worn book and in his left was a quill. His full lips were slightly parted in an uneasy smile.

"Hello." His voice was low, not airy like the other ghosts she had spoken to, it had a hint of power behind it.

"I've never seen you around the castle. I thought I knew all the ghosts." Hermione stayed where she was once she surmised how he looked like he was about to bolt.

"I tend to only stay in the library, miss."

"Oh no, you don't have to call me miss." She could feel herself blushing. He may be a ghost, but he is a handsome ghost.

"Then what shall I call you?" He put his hands together in front of him, holding both his possessions tightly.

"Hermione Granger."

"Nice to meet you Miss Granger."

"Oh no! Hermione is fine. Please. Just Hermione."

"Alright, Hermione. What are you studying?"

"Ancient Runes." She saw a spark of interest in his eyes.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. The material that Professor Babbling gives us to decipher though is sort of dry, even for me so it sort of put me to sleep."

"Does the material have a storyline?" The ghost boy walked towards Hermione.

"No, not really. Just some philosophical essays about whether or not we as the magical community should exercise our power and rule over the muggle world or help them or just continue on as we have always, separate."

"That is an interesting debate, but probably not with the Runic alphabet." He glided past Hermione to her books.

"By Spellman. I knew him. Helped him translate this. He was terrible with Runes."

"Really?"

"Truly. It was sad really. Runes are a great source for magic though, secretive as well."

"And he was able to publish it? Without your name on it?"

"I do not like people knowing my name." He responded sadly.

"Can you tell me your name?" Hermione asked quietly.

"You like to read?"

"Yes."

"Do you know how to rematerialize an object from another realm?"

"Another realm?"

"Say a ghost realm?"

"Um. I read about a spell but it's in a book in the Restricted Section." Hermione was really puzzled by this ghost boy.

"Get it." His voice was forceful.

"Why?"

"Trust me. You'll enjoy the outcome since you love knowledge so much."

"Okay."

Ten minutes and several coatings of dust later, Hermione returned to the ghost boy with the small greenish-brown volume tucked under her right arm. The boy was seated cross-legged on top of the workstation and was scribbling rapidly in the book he held in his hands. He looked so intense and concentrated that Hermione felt an unfamiliar flutter in her chest. Of course a possible academic equal to her was a ghost. Not wanting to bother him, she sat down on the carpeted floor and pointed her lit wand at the book that now rested in her lap.

"A Slightly Dangerous Guide to Resurrection and Other Related Magics by Rowena Ravenclaw and Helena Ravenclaw."

The title caused an involuntary shiver to course through her body. Hermione jumped when the boy's voice cut through the tense darkness.

"They wrote that for me, you know."

"What? You were around during the time of the Founders?"

"Not only was I around, I was alive."

Hermione's heart began to beat fast despite her silent prayers that she remain calm. Someone that knew the Founders!

"You were one of the original Hogwarts students, weren't you?"

"In a way, yes." He floated down off the workstation so he was level with Hermione and the book. He pulled out a thick ghost knife from his ghost boot and before she had a chance to react, slit his right wrist and places the steady silver flow over ghost book, splashing the cover.

"Can you turn the book to page 127, please?"

Hermione's brain jump started and complied. The book was written in the Runic Alphabet. The little she could make out were the words "possession", "dead", "restore", and "living". The boy seemed to know the spell at one glance and began chanting in a low crude language Hermione didn't recognize. The book in the boy's lap began to glow and slowly filled with color. When the stream of silver blood seemed to have stopped, the book looked solid and his wrist sealed itself.

"Go ahead. Pick it up." He instructed Hermione. She again complied. The soft leather was warm as if it was cooling off. She was about to open the cover when the ghost boy stood.

"You should find it more interesting than Spellman I hope. Keep my journal and that book safe and secret. Return them to me when you have finished."

He vanished only like a ghost could vanish.

Hermione though eager to dive into this new mystery knew that she should probably do so in a more private setting so she packed up her belongings and returned to her private room that she had been awarded as Head Girl.

Once she was tucked in her bed, pajamas on and a glass of water with one candle lit and one on standby, she cracked open the ghost boy's journal and gasped at the Runic words on the first page.

"17 August 1012

To my son, Alexi Mikhail Mathias Ravenclaw Slytherin, on your 15th birthday. May this journal be filled with your private thoughts and musings. You are a brilliant boy. You make your father and I proud. You will do great things my son.

Your mother,

Rowena"


	2. Chapter 2

Two

31 August 1012

Mother finally convinced Father to allow me to move out of our personal quarters and into the student section of the castle. This caused a big row between them though, as expected. Mother wants me housed with her students since they are the most academically driven but Father says that is impossible since he does not want me associating with muggleborns (he used a more vulgar word) or halfbloods.

...

Alexi muttered a drying spell to dry the ink in his new journal before snapping it shut and tucking it underneath his feather mattress. His father did not know about his journal and he preferred to keep it that way. As he blew out the candle beside his bed, Alexi smiled as he imagined how it would be to live with the other students. He would be housed with his father's selections, a concession his mother did not want to make but had settled upon eventually after his father threatened not to let Alexi move out at all. He needed independence, she said.

As he drifted off to sleep, he could hear his parents arguing yet again, this time not over raising him. They were arguing about a spell that Godric wanted to impose. He wanted to create a grand spell that bound magic within the body, needing a conduit to release it, something he called a wand. He thought witches and wizards abused their powers. His mother supported Godric but kept bringing up the possibly of random dangerous magical bursts and situations that a magical person may find themselves without a wand but the need to defend themselves. His father was against the idea entirely. He stood firm in his belief that the gods had granted them the power of magic without the need for a preposterous tool like a wand. For once, Alexi agreed more with his father. He did not want to have to use some piece of wood to cast a spell. This debate was swirling through his head when Alexi slipped into an unconscious state.

...

Alexi woke to sound of house elves busying around his room. The bang of his favorite house elf Meera dropping his truck jerked him to attention.

Today was the day. The day he could tell the other Hogwarts students that he was not being coddled. That he was just like them. According to the position of the sun outside his window, he had slept most of the day and the rest of the students should be arriving soon.

Vaulting himself out of his bed, he slid into his private bathroom and slipped into the already steaming bath Meera had prepared for him. As he soaked himself awake, he knew he would miss Meera's company but he wanted to fit in. He muttered a spell to summon the light green block his mother brought back for him from her trip. Something called soap. It was supposed to make him "smell presentable".

His half sister's loud voice brought him out of his daydream. Most thought Helena Ravenclaw is soft spoken. Most didn't know her like Alexi does.

"Are you going to stay in there all day till you shrivel up or are you going to go down to the Great Hall and be normal, little brother?"

Today is a first for his sister as well. Seven years his senior, Helena just convinced her mother that she is capable of teaching, though not to the degree that she had hoped. Their mother, the wise woman she is, decided that Helena would teach Transfiguration alongside with her. That argument was nearly as loud as the ones between his parents. His headstrong sister did not want to be coddle but she did not have the same slyness as Alexi possessed to worm her way to what she wanted. She, like Alexi, favored their mother in appearance. Tall, thin, dark hair and eyes with an air of power and intelligence. Alexi had always been curious why his eyes differ from his family's so much. While his mother and half sister have nearly black eyes and his father has steel grey, Alexi's were an eerie pale silver-green.

"Yes, sister. I am coming. Please leave the room so I can dress."

"I shall summon Meera." Helena turned to exit the room.

"No need, sister. I am capable of doing it myself."

Helena smiled knowingly. She understood the desire to break free of what was expected of the children of the founders of this institution.

"As you wish, little brother," she stated before shutting the door behind her.

After extracting himself from the now cold bathwater, Alexi muttered the same drying spell that he had used the night before to dry the ink in his journal. He opened the door, peaking his head in to make sure his sister had left, continuing onto his giant ornate wardrobe. He threw open the wood double doors and extracted a silk pale green shirt, the same color as his eyes, and a pair of black leather pants along with a pair of matching black leather boots that laced up his lower leg. Forgoing the annoying smallclothes that just bunched up in his pants, he wiggled into his pants and fastened a black leather belt in his middle, over the green shirt. Crossing to his bed table, he placed his necklace around his neck that held a small silver hammer on a leather thong, a gift from a traveler.

Taking a quick glance in his looking-glass, Alexi decided to ignore his long wet dark brown hair, knowing it would annoy his father that he was not completely up to his grooming standards. Though he did not really feel keen on being part of Slytherin house, he did concede that the color green did suit him. Due to clothes being so expensive and difficult to come by, the Founders made the decision that the students did not have to purchase uniforms, since the owning of books and supplies were very much more important, that student were able to provide their own clothes as long as they denoted their house by color. Crimson or gold for Godric Gryffindor's house, yellow or black for Helga Hufflepuff's, blue or bronze or brown for his mother's and green or silver for his father's.

Alexi grabbed a brown leather satchel on his way out, slinging it on his left shoulder. The bag, which was a birthday gift from his sister, was already filled with books on Charms and Potions along with a handful of quills and a stack of parchment tied together with twine. Taking one last look at his room, he closed the door with a small smile and bound down the hallway in the direction of the Great Hall.

…..

Alexi slid into the Great Hall through a door hidden behind the painting of some long dead Roman wizard to find the tables full of students already eating. He inched his way over to the table littered with green-clad youths, attempting to avoid looking up to the head table that held the Founders, meaning his parents, along with his sister, who's eye he quickly caught. Helena was trying to hold in laughter at his brother's late appearance, knowing his fierce parents would tear his ear a new hole later for his tardiness. No, the son of two of the Founders needed to be perfect all the time.

Spotting an empty seat between a boy with short white hair and a girl with blonde ringlets. Alexi plopped not so gracefully down, knocking over the boy's pumpkin juice with the swinging of his heavy satchel.

"Watch it!"

"Sorry." Alexi said as he yet again muttered the drying spell on both the table and the boy's silvery shirt.

"Whatcha got that bag fo'? Classes are not till the mornin'." The boy's voice was mocking.

"Sod off, Ritchell. He can carry a bag with him if he pleases." The girl to his right with the ringlets spoke up. She has pretty blue eyes, Alexi noticed. "My name is Carolina Greengrass. Who might you be?" Carolina fingered a piece of his wet hair between her pale fingers. His breath hitched before he answered barely audibly.

"I am Alexi Mikhail Mathias Ravenclaw Slytherin. I mean, I am Alexi. Alexi Slytherin. I apologize. I am not around people my age that often." He could feel his cheeks grow hot. Carolina giggled.

"Clearly not. Son of two of the Founders? Or are you just unfortunate with that mouthful of a name?"

"Yes, Rowena is my mother and Salazar is my father."

"Well, are you not special, now are you?" Ritchell chimed in with his oily voice.

"No, I am not. Not truly. I am just like you. A student. A normal student."

"Sure you are sweetheart", said Carolina, still playing with his wet hair.


End file.
